


Echoes

by luvsanime02



Series: Cocktail Friday Fics [37]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Cocktail Friday, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 06:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15924428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsanime02/pseuds/luvsanime02
Summary: Zechs walks down the street and hears the whisper of a voice long gone, and wonders if Une can ever hear him, too.





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the September 7th Cocktail Party prompt found here: https://gwcocktailfriday.tumblr.com/post/177621465378/cocktail-friday-post-responses-on-friday.

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own Gundam Wing, and am making no money off of this fic.

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**Echoes** by luvsanime02

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Zechs slides into the seat, and flicks a finger in the direction of the bartender. “Double bourbon, neat,” he says, dismissing the man as quickly as he beckoned him over.

“Make that two,” a quiet voice says behind him.

Briefly, Zechs considers protesting. Leaving, maybe. He wants to be alone today. But no, if there’s anyone else in the Earth Sphere who deserves to sit here and drink with him, it’s her.

Lady Une takes a seat two down from his, giving Zechs plenty of room, and they both wait quietly for their drinks. It doesn’t take the bartender long at all to push the glasses across the bar to them, and Zechs hands over a credit card to pay for both of them.

She doesn't protest. Zechs didn’t think that she would, but then, they haven’t seen each other in a long time. She picks up her bourbon and takes a sip, swirling the glass around and letting the alcohol breathe.

Zechs doesn’t bother, and downs half of his drink in one go, the burn immediately bringing back memories. Far too many memories. Not enough memories.

“He never really liked bourbon,” Une says softly, taking another sip.

Almost against his will, Zechs’s lips twitch up into a fond smile. “I know,” he says. “He preferred rum, but thought that it wasn’t sophisticated enough for his image.”

“I used to tell him that no one at parties would know the difference if he bought the right kind, but he never tried it,” she confesses. Zechs doesn’t turn to look at her, but he can hear the answering smile in her voice. Both of them are so hopeless, even now.

They’re silent again after that, both of them lost in reminiscence. 

“How’s Mariemaia?” Zechs asks eventually, because he’s curious. He can’t help but wonder how she’s doing, and what kind of person she’s growing up to be. If she’s still living in the shadow of her father’s legacy, or if she’s forging her own path. He hopes that it’s the latter option.

“She’s very well,” Une replies. “Her therapy’s still ongoing, might always be, but she’s been walking with assistance for the past couple of years. The doctors are still skeptical about her ever being capable of running again, though, so she’s determined to train herself up and participate in a marathon one of these days.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says simply. And he is. Zechs is very happy to hear that she’s a fighter, though he honestly can’t imagine her being anything else.

By unspoken agreement, both of them leave a little of their bourbon still in their glasses, a tribute and an offering, and then they leave separately, both going back to their own lives, the single thread that still connects them stretching but never breaking. Its heavy presence both binds them together and, at the same time, anchors them in the present.

Zechs walks down the street and hears the whisper of a voice long gone, and wonders if Une can ever hear him, too. He hopes so. It’s nice to think that he might not be the only one still listening to echoes.


End file.
